Hollow Protestations: A Meditation on Actors, People, and the Theater of Modern Outrage
I have always been haunted by a line from Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead , spoken by the Player with that peculiar blend of smugness and resignation: “We’re actors — we’re the opposite of people.” It’s a line that, once heard, refuses to leave you alone. It lingers like a riddle, or perhaps like a diagnosis. What does it mean to be the opposite of a person? And why does that phrase feel more relevant now than ever? People, after all, are supposed to be real. Authentic. Burdened by the mundane obligations that tether us to the earth: children, work, bills, the slow erosion of idealism under the weight of daily life. People have to pick up groceries, negotiate with toddlers, and remember to pay the water bill. People are grounded. Actors — the kind I’m talking about — are not. And I don’t mean Hollywood actors, though they too have their own peculiar detachment from the gravitational pull of reality. No, the actors I mean are the ones who populate our streets, our feeds, our pu...